


Clueless Derek is Clueless

by orange_rotted



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 16:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_rotted/pseuds/orange_rotted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to an anonymous prompt on tumblr:</p><p>"Derek gets crazy jealous of how close Cora and Stiles are. At first he doesn't realise he actually has a crush on Stiles, instead, thinking that he's just being protective of his little sisters virtue or something. It takes a bit for him to realise that its jealousy."</p><p>(I hate coming up with titles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clueless Derek is Clueless

Derek doesn’t know what it is, but something about the kid just rubs him the wrong way. He’s everything Derek hates about teenagers, obnoxious, sarcastic, impulsive… and this annoying brat is who his little sister has decided is the best person to hang out with every waking moment of every god damn day. 

Why Cora, why. Surely you have better taste than this guy? 

Well maybe he’s being a bit harsh to Stiles - he has helped Derek out on a few occasions. The casual saving of his life every now and then, he’ll give him that much, but all those aforementioned things still apply.

Stiles is currently sitting on the couch in the living space of his loft with Cora. They’re watching some obscure British panel show that Stiles insists is the most hilarious thing to ever exist and he’s laughing as though that’s exactly the case. How is it that even his laugh is as loud and obnoxious as he is? Sometimes Derek might be working out, eating dinner, taking a nap and he hears Stiles’ cackle even though he’s nowhere near him. It’s actually ridiculous - nothing infuriates Derek more than having to think about Stiles when he’s not even there. It seems to be happening a lot lately too. 

Something tells Derek though that Stiles knows exactly how he feels about him. He notices that Stiles keeps throwing little nervous glances at him from the living room and he could’ve sworn that a couple times Stiles had even tried to offer up a little smile. Ugh. 

Just try make a move on her in front of me, I double dare you, he thinks.

“Derek, hello,” says Cora, waving her hand in front of his face. Jesus, when did she get there?

“Yeah, what,” he replies as he finally comes back to earth. 

“Peter just called. He needs my help for an hour or so, he’s waiting out the front. Stiles said he’s gonna hang out here for a bit till I get back. Be nice, okay?”

It takes a couple seconds till Derek’s brain registers what she just said and he’s spluttering out protests so fast he’s sure none of the words even make sense.

“What, why, Stiles - how come - doesn’t just - with you?” He blurts out without any consideration for unimportant things, such as syntax and proper sentence construction.

“Dude,” says Stiles, “your uncle gives me the serious heebie-jeebies, no way am I going anywhere with that guy.” 

His body gives a shudder for emphasis as he says this. 

“Fine, you can wait, but stay out of my way.” 

“I’m not asking for your permission, Derek,” says Cora defiantly as she leans down at the door to put on her shoes. “He’d better still be in one piece when I get back.” 

With those words, the loft door is shut behind her and he can hear the sound of footsteps echoing down the passage. There’s a few metallic clangs as the rusty old elevator door is pushed up and back down again and the whirring sounds signal she’s really just abandoned him to this fate.

“And then there were two,” smiles Stiles looking at Derek. 

This is going to be the longest few hours of Derek’s life. 

“So you wanna watch this show with me?” Stiles asks, making a move again towards the couch. Derek can hear the faint voices of random British comedians chatter on in the background.

“No, why would I want to do that?” 

He doesn’t really understand it, but his stomach drops painfully when he sees the way Stiles’ expression falls as he dismisses the offer.

“You sure? It’s really funny,” says Stiles, “it’s called QI, it stands for Quite Interesting, and it’s hosted by this amazingly smart dude called Stephen Fry - he’s gay by the way - and every week they have a theme according to the letter of the alphabet that all the questions are based on and…” 

And he’s off explaining the whole structure of the show and the kinds of B grade British celebrities that join every week and something about a klaxon. Derek stops listening after about 3 seconds and finds himself staring at Stiles’ lips. Did they always look like that? They’re kind of nice, plump and pink. Derek finds himself wondering what it’d be like to nibble on them. 

“... and I swear to god, all the things I know about the world are from this show. Seriously, you have to watch it with me.”

Oh shit, thinks Derek as he realises Stiles has finally stopped talking. He’s looking at him really expectantly with this kind of desperate, puppy-dog look in his eyes. 

Scott has taught him well.

“Fine, Jesus, I’ll watch it,” assents Derek, unable to say no again to that pathetic look on Stiles’ face, “But only if you promise to shut up for twenty minutes.”

The answering grin is just cheeky enough that Derek knows nothing of the sort is going to happen. 

Three episodes later and Derek now knows that at one point scientists believed we had a second moon called Cruithne that has since been disproved, that just like humans, British cows moo in a regional accent and that yes, this show might actually be the most hilarious and informative thing created by mankind. 

Of course, he will admit nothing of the sort to Stiles.

They were about a quarter of the way through their fourth episode and Derek notices that Stiles’ laughter has grown softer and his interjections more infrequent over the past thirty minutes. Just as the long period of silence starts to worry him, he feels a soft tickle of hair on his cheek as Stiles’ head leans (more like falls) on his shoulder. It’s not even that late, what the hell, Derek thinks to himself. Stiles was the one that wanted to watch this show in the first place and he goes and falls asleep, what a jerk. He doesn’t even have the courtesy to fall asleep on the armrest, he just had to mistake Derek’s person for a really comfortable pillow - look, he’s even snuggling into it! 

Derek thinks he should just get up. Seeing Stiles fall suddenly down onto the couch would be mildly amusing… but somehow Derek can’t bring himself to do it. His body even betrays him as it moves a little closer and deeper into the couch so that Stiles is more comfortable. He resigns himself to the fact that he’s now just a mistaken-for piece of furniture and turns down the volume on the television to make sure it doesn’t wake Stiles up. 

Without really realising, he too falls asleep. 

Derek is startled awake by the buzzing sounds of a phone. He blinks desperately, trying to place where he is and what’s going on. It’s much darker now, the soft glow of a crescent moon filters in through the dirty windows, mingling with the artificial light from the menu-screen of his TV. He tries to reach for the offending object on the table but there’s a heavy weight on his right arm and it feels tingly and numb. The phone just continues to vibrate and the screen flashes with a candid, hilarious photo of his sister that Derek is sure had been taken without her consent or knowledge. Before he reaches forward to answer it, he gently shakes Stiles awake and the ensuing little groans are far sexier and endearing than they have any right to be. 

“Cora?” he says as he puts the phone to his ear.

“Ah, Derek… hi? Where’s Stiles?”

“He fell asleep,” he answers, “where are you?” 

“I’m just calling to say that this is going to take longer than I thought, I probably couldn’t be back for another hour or two at least, so I don’t really see a point in leaving. Maybe Stiles should head home?” 

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you later Derek.”

Derek hangs up and looks at the blurry eyed figure next to him and relays the conversation. It’s not even past midnight yet but Stiles is looking as though he’s only half aware that he’s actually even awake. 

“Ah, you can stay here… if you want?” Suggests Derek as a he catches sight of twelve pigs flying merrily in the sky outside. 

Stiles’ eyes are so large with surprise Derek thinks maybe he really did just spot winged boars through the window and he’s suddenly far more awake than before.

“Are you, uh, sure?” He asks rubbing his eyes forcefully with his fists. “Where can I sleep, doesn’t Cora normally stay at Peter’s anyway?” He pauses and then says with apprehension “Uh, I guess I can sleep on the couch?” The tone in his voice relays how very much he does not want to do that - the couch may be okay for sitting on, but it’s a two seater and would be hell for anybody over five feet to sleep on. Stiles might still be a teenager, but he’s definitely gone through his growth spurt and he can just tell it’d be ridiculously uncomfortable for him to try to sleep there. 

“Nah, the couch is too small for you. I have a double bed, I guess we can just share.” 

Why does Derek feel so nervous all of a sudden? His mind can’t stop thinking about where Stiles normally sleeps when he stays overnight with Cora at Peter’s and an unmistakable twinge of jealousy forms in his gut and grows. The idea of Stiles and Cora sharing a bed just fills him with anger. 

“Yeah, okay, I guess…” Trails off Stiles uncomfortably. He looks very uncertain, as if a single step might alter everything and Derek will just change his mind and throw him out in the cold. 

Derek doesn’t really think anything else needs to be said and just leaves Stiles in the living area as he walks to the spiral staircase that leads to the bedroom. As he’s stripping off his shirt and jeans, he can hear the creak of metal as Stiles makes his way up to the room too. It’s already quite dark, but with his werewolf senses, he can see clearly the shape of Stiles emerge and the nervous way he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but a part of him doesn’t care because he knows he can get away with it. 

He slips into the bed first, the sheets crumpled and unmade from that morning and he feels a jolt of excitement as the bed shifts with Stiles’ weight. He knows he’s stupid for being like this, for wanting his sister’s boyfriend - because now he knows that that’s what’s going on. When he’d woken up before, he’d already been half hard and just the smell of Stiles, even now, is driving him crazy. Stiles has always driven him crazy… he’d just mistaken the reason for why that was the case.

He lay as still as he could in the bed, making sure that he was well and truly on his side. Stiles, it seemed, couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep either. Derek could feel the bed move everytime he tried to reposition himself and he could hear the fast-paced thumping of Stiles’ heart. Derek just closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. 

Eventually Stiles seemed to have found a comfortable position because he stopped shifting around so much, but Derek could tell from the odd rhythm of his breathing that Stiles was no more asleep than he was. 

They both lay there in silence. 

Derek wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly he was aware of Stiles maneuvering himself closer to Derek in the bed - turning onto his side so that he was facing towards that side of the bed. 

“Derek,” he whispers to the sleeping form’s back, “Derek, are you still awake?”

Derek rolls over and faces Stiles, their eyes meeting in the darkness. Derek doesn’t reply, just holds their gaze as he slides subtly forward, his heart beating faster and faster. He can feel Stiles respond to the movement and soon they’re lying just bare inches from each other, their exhales meeting in the space between them. 

Derek is so confused as to why Stiles is doing this. But for once he’s not going to question it, he’s not going to give himself the chance to over-analyse it and he knows Stiles is probably telling himself that he needs to do exactly the same thing. They’re both just trying to find the courage to acknowledge what’s happening between them, both being a little too scared to take that final step.

The moments that tick past feel like lifetimes. 

Eventually Stiles is the one to give in. The movement he makes is hesitant and nervous, Derek can tell that Stiles is praying inside his head that Derek will meet him halfway, that he’s not about to humiliate himself and ruin everything.

Derek obliges and leans forward, brushing his lips to Stiles’. It’s gentle, both still unsure that this is even happening, that this is real. They touch their lips tentatively to the others’, their bodies finally moving close to press all the way along. Derek traces the length of Stiles’ side till his hand is lightly touching Stiles’ hip and, slowly, finger by finger, slides his hand under the material of Stiles’ t-shirt. As his hand slowly caresses the hot skin there, Derek hears little gasps escape those lush lips and jesus, if he weren’t so hard already…the kiss intensifies as their bodies start becoming more demanding, their mouths opening and tongues meeting, massaging against the other. Stiles’ movements are nervous and clumsy and Derek finds something about his inexperience endearing, but also deeply confusing. 

“Stiles, wait,” he breathes, even though he doesn’t want to do anything of the sort. Even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this…He can’t hold out anymore, he needs to know. “What about Cora?”

Stiles shifts his head back so that he can look Derek in the eyes, an expression of absolute confusion on his face. 

“What about her?” he asks, genuinely uncertain what Derek is asking. 

“I thought you two were… together?” 

The confused look on Stiles’ face gives way to an understanding grin and then, unexpectedly, Stiles bursts into laughter. Derek doesn’t know what to do, he just watches as Stiles dissolves into uncontrollable fits of mirth. It’s freaking him out a little, actually. 

“Cora? Derek, you fucking idiot,” he manages to say in between the more hysterical moments, “you thought, I - with your sister… you idiot, oh my god.” 

Now Derek is mightily confused. 

“Why am I an idiot?” He asks. 

Stiles finally manages to calm down a little, his eyes actually shining with moisture from laughing so much. 

“Cora’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but,” he says, and looks Derek right in the eyes as he continues, “let’s just say she’s not the real reason I’m around here so much.” 

Well, thinks Derek, that was unexpected. Stiles usually spent the whole time either snapping at him or just outright ignoring him and Derek himself gave right back what he was given. Never, ever did he imagine that this would be the case. If he’s being honest, he always assigned those extreme emotions that occurred around Stiles to being an overprotective brother. How very wrong he was. 

“Derek, this is the most words I’ve ever heard you say in a row ever and it’s weirding me out. Can we please just go back to the whole kissing thing?”

The look of longing on Stiles’ face is both cute and annoying at the same time, but Derek’s said what needed to be said and if he’s being honest with himself, he definitely wants to go back to that whole kissing thing too.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a university assignment, which is why it might feel it ends abruptly. I did enjoy writing it, so if I get the time and motivation (hint hint!) I might write more. :)


End file.
